Saga Uninterrupted
by lchan1
Summary: A new spin on the old story. Everyone as little kids and finding the Crystals. Summary to be changed as story progresses.
1. Begin: White Mage and Thief

Final Fantasy is copyright Squaresoft.  
  
Aurelia ran from the children, crying her eyes out. They continued to follow her, even though she tried to turn and dash out of their sight. Elfaine, her best friend, followed close behind them, holding out his toy sword to dispatch her attackers... Or at the very least get them to back off.  
  
Aurelia was a farmer's daughter, the youngest of five. Elfaine's family had moved to Cornelia not long after Aurelia was born, bearing good tidings from the elven lands and it's capital, Elfheim. His parents were the first ambassadors from the elven lands to Cornelia, a high honor in both Elfheim and Cornelia.  
  
Elfaine was a little taller than Aurelia, with messy blonde hair that almost always looked dirty. His eyes were translucent green, as all elves' are. Aurelia, on the other hand, was a stark contrast. Where he was bony and skinny, she was still plump like a baby. Her light skin was peppered with reddish freckles, her long red hair was always in a tight braid, and her blue eyes were as fair as the skies.  
  
Their clothes differed as well, although this was to be expected. Elfaine wore khaki shorts that were just a shade or two darker than his skin. He often wore a loose blue shirt and sandals or short boots, but on hot summer days that Cornelia was often prone to, he could be seen with nothing but those shorts on, frolicking with Aurelia in the ocean.  
  
Aurelia, however, usually wore a light woolen dress that came down to her knees. It was buckled with a leather belt that once belonged to her eldest brother, Edmund. He had since married and started his own family out further than the rest of her family would venture, on the road towards Pravoca. The dress was, in actuality, one of her father's old shirts, but as the family was too poor to afford much but food, they never let Aurelia know this.  
  
Today, Jack, Dean, and Annette-three of the meanest children in Cornelia-were teasing Aurelia. Annette was quick and sprightly, and was occasionally seen whipping around a piece of old rope as a weapon. Dean was bulkier than the other two, but certainly stupider. He was reminiscent of an ape in his stature and manner of play. He also spoke very little and was very slow. And then there was Jack. Jack was older than the rest, around eight or so while Annette was seven and Jack was six. He had a wooden toy sword and a bandanna around his head like a pirate. Elfaine and Jack had already had several tussles that week, about twice as many as usual, and Jack's gang thought that they could rile Elfaine up some more by picking on his "girlfriend", Aurelia. Of course, Elfaine and Aurelia protested that they weren't "in love" or "kissing in a tree", but they taunted and teased her just the same.  
  
Aurelia dashed into the forest, trying to get away from Annette who was hitting her with her rope. Occasionally Annette's rope would get tangled in a tree and she would have to go and rip it out. Aurelia glanced this way and that, looking for the hiding place she and Elfaine had found. There was no way these three could find it, but she had to hope Elfaine would know where she was going.  
  
She ducked into a large thicket and slid down into an underground passage, sprinting as soon as her feet hit the ground. Strong beams on the ceiling shifted slightly as the other children ran across, lighting the passageway with the afternoon sun. Aurelia turned left, then right and finally stopped at the top of a set of wide dirt stairs. She blinked, obviously surprised. This had been another series of tunnels just yesterday. She barely heard Elfaine's footsteps in the corridor as she descended the stairs. The afternoon sun shone green in the cavernous room, and Aurelia admired the way the dust and pollen drifted down and caught the light. Her eyes caught on two prisms hovering on a slab of stone. They glowed with such internal ferocity that she thought they were strange lamps for a moment. Then when their light did neither flicker nor fade, Aurelia wondered what these strange things could be.  
  
Elfaine ran after Jack, cursing Aurelia's weakness. She just couldn't ignore those troublemakers, couldn't just come up with a good comeback like he could. And now she was probably running into those tunnels without him, where she might run into one of those goblin-things. He had been able to beat them off before with his sword, but Aurelia was always defenseless and useless. When one would come at her she'd just scream and run away, just like with Jack and his buddies. She had no sense of timing or even brains for battle, whether it was verbal or physical. Elfaine was eighteen human years old, but looked like a nine-year-old. He acted much older than other nine-year-olds as well. Aurelia was only seven and by the time she was eighteen he'd act as though he was nearly thirty. Of course, he'd look like an fifteen year old, and might even try to act like one, but try as he might, Elfaine knew that he would outlive his best friend and everyone else in this town.  
  
Jack had sent the other two ruffians after Aurelia, while he waited for Elfaine at the edge of the forest. Elfaine scoffed at the human's ridiculous plan to stall him and clubbed the younger boy with the flat of his wooden sword as he ran by. If they thought that he was going to show off like usual and let Jack get away with his usual debonair shit, they definitely had another thing coming.  
  
Aurelia stretched her hand towards one of the floating crystals, which turned pale pink and flickered with images. She could only catch a few, and those she caught made little sense. A young red-haired woman wearing white robes was saying something. It almost looked like she was praying angrily. Another: a man wearing midnight blue robes and a wide-brimmed hat was looking at her sadly, his eyes glowed yellow but she could not see his face. Another: a man in red armor with copper hair was wielding a sword against a great lizard. Aurelia fancied it was a dragon, but she was unsure. Another: a boy with light brown hair and... was that Elfaine?!  
  
Good, the other hooligans had run past the tunnels. Elfaine ducked into the thicket and slid down into the passage, letting gravity give him a little boost to his speed. His footsteps were loud in the tunnel as he searched for Aurelia. He did not dare call her name but ran right, then left and stopped suddenly at the top of a set of wide dirt stairs. Aurelia was stretching her hand out to a pair of glowing things, transfixed by their glitter and glow. What a fool she was! Didn't she know was magic looked like! Didn't she know that she could be hurt by whatever that was!  
  
He ran down the stairs and tucked his sword into his belt, grabbing Aurelia by her outstretched hand and throwing her away from the dangerous magic. Aurelia shook her head and gasped to see him standing before her, as if he was a figment of her imagination come to life. "Aurelia, don't go touching things you don't know about!" He whispered fiercely.  
  
"But... Elfaine..." She seemed speechless.  
  
"No 'buts' Aurelia! You could have gotten poisoned or cursed or worse!" He drew a finger across his throat. She watched him in horror. "This could be bad magic! We'll get the white wizard from town to come here and look--"  
  
"Elfaine, no!" Aurelia shouted. "This is good magic, I know it." He looked at her skeptically. "Really, Elfaine." She looked at him pleadingly. "Trust me?"  
  
Elfaine groaned and fell to his knees. "I'm such a sucker. Alright, what's so great about these glowy things?"  
  
That night, after her mother had tucked her in and blew out the candle, Aurelia took the crystal out from under her shirt, although she kept the glistening chain around her neck. It glowed faintly now, but she knew it was something that she needed to keep.  
  
Aurelia was glad Elfaine took the other one, she would've felt lonely if he hadn't, but she wasn't sure why. As she drifted off to sleep, Aurelia felt a certain amount of confidence instill itself within her. And she dreamed a wonderful dream.  
  
A boy several years older than her stood on a great ship, his red hair waving in a brisk wind. Aurelia reached out to comfort him, as he looked sad for some reason. He shivered against the cold wind and she tried to warm him, but could not get any closer. His blue eyes looked nearly gray, reflecting the stormy sky. Behind him and to his right, another boy sulked in a corner of the deck. His hair was black and stringy, his face pale and sickly. His eyes glowed faintly yellow, like the weak sun. He stood and walked over to the red-haired boy, a tear drying on his pale cheek. He looked to be about Elfaine's age, his eyes glimmering with the same intensity as the crystal hanging from his neck. The red-haired boy scolded the other, but she couldn't hear him say anything. The pale one tucked the crystal underneath his shirt and pulled his coat closer around his thin frame. The red-haired boy fingered the silvery chain that hung under his shirt and smiled weakly, as though he was determined to succeed at whatever he was doing. 


	2. Begin: Warrior and Black Mage

Final Fantasy is copyright Squaresoft.  
  
Martin shifted in his seat, frowning intently at the wall in front of him. The wimpy little half-brother he was saddled with sat very quietly, very patiently. That may have been the most annoying part about him, aside from his eyes. His yellow eyes were glowing faintly, as faint as the glow within that little crystal of his. At least Martin's own was glowing stronger than his half-brother's, that gave him some comfort.BR  
  
But why did their mother have to die? Martin wanted nothing more than to continue his mastery of the schoolyard, but here he and Spencer were, on a boat bound for someplace called Cornelia. Apparently that was their main export. Corn. Martin leaned back against the bench. Oh gods, how bored he would be there.  
  
Pravoca was a wonderful, educated place. There was a school, which he and Martin attended, although they were thankfully in different classes. His half-brother was always kind of a brute, living with their mother, while Spencer himself had to deal with his abusive father. Attempts to calm him down did nothing but continue to enrage the beast, who was as unhappy with his son as a bird with rotten eggs, although much more wrathful. He shouted at Spencer to try to become a guard, but it did no good. Spencer was never very good with physical subjects, preferring literature and geography.BR  
  
He was beaten daily for his incompetence and lack of interest in his father's line of work. Spencer would have given anything to live with his mother, a mage of the black arts. And his father would have been happy with Martin. At least Martin could stand his punches. But ever since she divorced Spencer's father, she was very distant with her second son, very unaccommodating.BR  
  
Her first husband, Martin's father, died on guard duty, but apparently with honor. Spencer had difficulty thinking of any man like that as having honor, just as he had problems thinking of himself being related to the man that killed his ex-wife in a drunken rage. Not that it surprised him, of course.BR  
  
Now, as they were being sent off to Cornelia to live with their Uncle Davis, Martin was disgusted with his younger half-brother for being so cold-hearted and callous. The truth was, Spencer could think of nothing better for the two of them. Martin was loyal, as young warriors often are, and disagreed with Spencer's assessment of the situation with a hard punch in the arm. Away from their mother's verbal abuse and his father's physical abuse, they could turn their attentions to the crystals that hung around their necks and the dreams Spencer knew they shared.BR  
  
The ten-year-old Martin was brave and dashing and all the wonderful things people like to hear about in themselves. He was also a conceited little brat and Spencer didn't feel that anything short of a death threat would change that. He had coppery red hair, blue eyes that changed tint with the weather, and a healthy complexion.BR  
  
Spencer, on the other hand, could never have been more different. His eyes glowed a faint yellow; his hair was stringy and black. He was quite pale, not just from the tossing of the boat, and was bone-thin. He had to admit, not at all "adorable" or "cute". He fidgeted with the crystal that hung around his neck on a silver chain, admiring how it never seemed cold to his touch.  
  
The procurement of the crystals was a funny thing really. Spencer had been ducking and dodging his half-brother earlier in the year when he ran down into the basement. This was possibly one of the worst ideas he had ever spawned, for there was no exit but the one Martin was now coming down. Spencer breathed heavily, unable to catch his breath, and ducked behind a stack of supply boxes. On the far wall he spotted a door he hadn't seen before, and sprinted for it. Martin caught his movement out of the corner of his eye and ran after him, although he was much slower. Spencer threw open the door, slammed it shut and started running down the spiral dirt stairs.BR  
  
Martin threw the door open just moments after Spencer had hidden behind a chair carved out of stone. He looked around with incredulity at his surroundings, and suddenly Spencer noticed the peculiarity of the room as well.BR  
  
It was a large cavern with sculpted dirt walls and a dusty dirt floor. There was an assortment of odd furniture lying about as though this place had been sacked long ago. The staircase descended directly in the middle of the room, twisting unnaturally. Martin carefully walked down the stairs, admiring the ceiling. It seemed like they were underneath the school's playground now. A tree's roots sprawled across the ceiling like an unruly spider's web, the matted grass still allowed some of the evening sun through to lit the otherwise unlit room.BR  
  
Well, not really. Two fragments of light that looked as though it was reflected off a mirror shone brightly where the stairs ended. Martin walked up to these things and closed his hand around one. It glowed red and white through his hand, brighter than the sun had ever been and then died down into a faint glow, a dying firefly in his hand on a silver chain. Martin was mesmerized.BR  
  
Spencer crept out from behind the toppled chair to examine the other object. It was a crystal roughly the size of his fist but narrower. There was no chain on it, but it hung suspended in mid-air and rotated slowly, the light from within it occasionally glinting outwards. When it did, another light would flash within the crystal, forming images. One was a figure in dark robes crouching and moving his fingers oddly. His eyes glowed an intense yellow as the black wizards did, but his face was shrouded by a wide-brimmed hat. Another, a red-haired woman in white shouting against a great wind. Another, a young man in brown short and a blue shirt laughing and clutching a money pouch. Another, a man with copper hair in red armor that looked suspiciously like Martin. Spencer glanced up at his taller half-brother at the same moment Martin glanced down at him.BR  
  
"Truce?" He said, offering Spencer a hand up.BR  
  
"Truce." The smaller boy replied, accepting Martin's assistance.  
  
Since then, Martin had been a bit friendlier, certainly not striking out without reason, although he did chide Spencer's fondness of taking out his crystal and holding it. Spencer had always seen himself as a voice of reason, but Martin was slowly becoming more reasonable at least in theory.BR  
  
Now he was regressing to the time before they found the crystals out of habit and frustration at their situation. Spencer could only assume it was because of their mother's death, but had an inkling that he might be off somewhat.  
  
Martin lay in bed awake, clutching the crystal in his hand. It ebbed and pulsed with his heartbeat, but he couldn't get any more images out of the thing. He had shaken it, tossed it against a wall, yelled at it, and done everything else he could think of to get another vision out of the thing. He was exhausted, and as he drifted off to sleep, he dreamt for the first time since finding the crystal.  
  
A girl with deep red hair somewhat younger than he was sitting on a swing, looking thoughtful. Her long hair was braided, and her poor clothing and dirty feet marked her as an urchin. She seemed wistful as she swung back and forth lazily in the summer sun. The swing hung from a branch of a large apple tree, and tall grass and vines surrounded her. A branch of the tree rustled and an apple fell and bounced off her head. She cried out, but he could not hear her, nor anything but the gentle blowing of the wind through the trees.BR  
  
A head poked out from the branches, an apple in his mouth. It was a boy of eight or so with tousled light brown hair. The girl laughed and swung harder, saying something to the boy. He looked disgruntled and retreated into the tree branches, only to emerge a moment later, climbing down the trunk of the old apple tree. The boy was shirtless, wearing only a pair of brown shorts and a crystal on a chain. His ears were long and pointed, and his eyes were a translucent green. He was carrying several apples, and several more protruded from his pockets. There was still one in his mouth.BR  
  
The girl's blue eyes were deeper than his could ever be, and when she laughed and smiled she seemed richer than any princess. She shrugged to the boy who was apparently talking, nearly slipping out of her worn dress (which, he noticed, was a man's shirt with the sleeves ripped off). She pulled the dress around her again and giggled as the boy did a handstand with the apple still in his mouth. The fruit began to fall from the boy's pockets, hitting him around the head and on his hands. He toppled over and winced as his head hit the ground, but the girl ran up and checked his head and back for any serious injuries. As she did so, a silver chain slipped down and out of her dress, carrying a crystal along with it. Hers shone purely white and it radiated more light when she smiled. 


	3. Not Enough

Final Fantasy is copyright Squaresoft.  
  
Aurelia hurried into the white mages' guild, dropping her books along the way, wearing a very worn pair of dingy white robes. She was fourteen now, with stronger arms and legs for helping with the farm, a lighter and kindlier attitude for her white mage training, and a ready laugh for her friends.  
  
Seven years ago she had found a crystal in a cave. Seven years ago two brothers came from across the ocean to Cornelia, seeking to live with their uncle, Davis. Both boys became fast friends with she and Elfaine, but now Aurelia realized she had little time for the boys' adventures. There just weren't enough hours in the day for her to get everything done. When her mother died three years ago, her father became disconsolate.  
  
Aurelia was now responsible for the cooking and cleaning, as well as working in the field with her elder brothers. They never turned away Elfaine and Martin when they offered their help, so long as they did not expect pay out of it, and this allowed Aurelia to speak with the boys whenever she wasn't in the house. Elfaine was curious, however. While she knew he was at least as old as she, he looked as if he was ten or twelve. He was strong, though, and very educated, possessing an intellect far beyond his appearance.  
  
Martin, however, was nearly eighteen, and the very picture of masculinity. His wavy red hair looked windswept practically all the time, his tall, tough frame seemed bigger from the muscles he was developing with his warrior training and helping with Aurelia's farm. He was a head taller than Aurelia, but fairly towered over Elfaine and even his own brother, Spencer.  
  
Aurelia suspected that they were actually half-brothers, as Spencer could not be more different from his sibling. She had never fully seen his face, as his wide-brimmed hat always supernaturally shaded it. He was quite thin, a fact emphasized by his preference of tight, black shirts and black pants. He looked like a shadow when he walked around town, a silver chain carelessly hanging from his left pants pocket. He was only a year older than Aurelia, and in the black mages' guild. He hadn't learnt a spell yet, or else he would have blue-toned robes around him as well. Spencer's eyes glowed yellow from underneath his hat; his long, stringy black hair trailed out from behind the hat, usually uncombed and terribly tangled.  
  
But it was Martin she was developing feelings towards. For while Spencer was mysterious, he was far too dark, depressing, and bitingly sarcastic. By contrast, Martin was jovial, easy-going, and light-hearted. He had an optimistic attitude and a generous nature, something even Elfaine lacked.  
  
Martin shook his fist and let it fly.  
  
"Careful, Martin, you'll break the ground with the force you're throwing those things."  
  
Twelve. Boxes. Why did it always have to be boxes?  
  
Elfaine picked up the dice and shook them rhythmically. "I'm tellin' you; it takes a gentle touch for you to win. By the way, that's thirty gil you owe me now."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, just roll." Martin replied, frustrated.  
  
The boys were sitting beneath a walnut tree in one of the fields, Martin and Elfaine rolling a pair of dice in the dust as Spencer sat a little farther away, studying one of his books intently underneath his wide-brimmed hat.  
  
"Hey Spence! Come join us!" Elfaine called eagerly, shaking the dice in the older boy's direction. The twenty-five-year-old elf was just about to enter puberty, he knew this, and was not at all thrilled. So he spent his time playing cards and dice and anything else he could get his hands on with his friends and even some old men at the inn. So far he'd swindled away two hundred gil, because as soon as he had figured out the game, he'd figure out a way to cheat.  
  
"I will not." Spencer replied coldly.  
  
"Aw, come on!" Elfaine whined as Martin grumbled at him to hurry up.  
  
"I will not engage in another one of your rigged games." Spencer said matter-of-factly.  
  
"Rigged! Since when have I rigged a dice game?" Elfaine exclaimed, noting the murderous look in Martin's eyes.  
  
"Since last Thursday, when you loaded those you are holding now. If throw them gently, they roll sevens. If you throw them hard, as my dear brother has a tendency to do, they'll land on pretty much anything else. Nice craftsmanship, but hardly an honest thing to do." Spencer replied, continuing to read his book nonchalantly.  
  
"So that's why I've been losing this whole time!" Martin exclaimed, picking Elfaine up by his shirt as he stood and drawing the twelve-year-old up to his own full six foot three inch height.  
  
"Heh, now wait a minute, Martin, I never said we were playing for keeps!" Elfaine said nervously, hanging from his shirt and already starting to slip out of it.  
  
Spencer muttered something about how familiar that sounded as Aurelia strode out of the forest and towards the trio.  
  
"Well, that's it! I can't take it anymore!" She snapped, throwing her book bag across the clearing and hitting the tree, ignoring the obviously murderous intent of Martin, Spencer's sudden fidgeting, and Elfaine's perilous position. She stalked over and sat down next to where Martin had been sitting moments before.  
  
After several moments, Elfaine slipped out of Martin's grip, losing his shirt in the process, and sat down in front of Aurelia. "Can't take what anymore, Ari?"  
  
"Father and his laziness, school and their pompousness, my stupid brothers and their... Their stupidness!" Aurelia exclaimed exasperatedly. "There just aren't enough hours in the day to take care of it all!"  
  
Martin sat down next to Aurelia and put one arm around her shoulders to comfort her, while Spencer obviously bristled, still trying to maintain the illusion that not only was he not listening, but he was studying.  
  
"It'll be alright. Elfaine and I will just have to help more, right, Elfaine?" Martin looked up at the younger boy, who made a face at Martin, but voiced his agreement. Aurelia giggled as she wiped away the few tears she had managed in this small amount of time.  
  
"Oh thank you, Martin. I don't know what Father and I would do without you and Elfaine." Aurelia smiled and hugged the copper-haired older boy, as she often did. Spencer coughed and nearly choked in the background.  
  
"Oh yes, that's exactly what you need around the house. A wimpy little twelve-year-old and a pair of biceps with pudding for brains." Spencer whispered to himself. Elfaine's pointed ears twitched in his direction, but the older boy seemed to take no notice.  
  
"I'll be right back, Ari. Just need to have a word with angst-cake over here." Elfaine said as he got up, thumbing in Spencer's general direction. Dusk was settling, and the fireflies were coming out of the tall grass. The elf grabbed the much skinnier boy around the neck, dragging him a few feet until the novice black mage stumbled to his feet and continued along with the younger boy.  
  
"Well, that was certainly odd," Aurelia remarked innocently.  
  
Martin was less accommodating. "I suppose so." They sat in the quiet of the evening for a moment, listening to the chirping of the crickets.  
  
"So, would you, uh-" Martin began, trying to think how to phrase what he was about to say.  
  
"Yes?" Aurelia nudged him along, smoothing out her white mage robes. She looked up at him adoringly, making him even more nervous.  
  
He glanced down at her, then up at the stars again, fingering the silver chain around his neck. "Would you, y'know, um, like to go to, uh, the ocean with me, um, tomorrow?"  
  
"Oh, that'd be great, Martin! Let's bring Elfaine and Spence, too!"  
  
"Actually, I was thinking we could go, y'know, just the two of us." Martin managed, blushing nearly as red as his hair.  
  
"What, you mean, like a, a date?" Aurelia blushed wildly. And she had thought he didn't like her!  
  
"Um, only if you want..." He was waffling, and he knew it.  
  
"Yeah, I, um, suppose, if you don't mind." She was being noncommittal.  
  
"No, not at all!" Martin positively beamed at her, or was that the light coming from inside his shirt?  
  
"Martin, what's that?" She asked, pointed at his chest.  
  
He hurriedly gulped and tried to cover the object. The light shone through his fingers and he glanced down at her robes. In about the same place, there was a steady, rhythmically pulsing glow. Aurelia pulled out a crystal nearly identical to his own. She looked up at the sky and saw dark smoke rising from the north. She put it quite succinctly. "Something's wrong."  
  
"Who's wimpy now?" Elfaine whispered harshly, inches away from Spencer's pointed nose. He could practically smell the human's fear as he held him fast to a tree.  
  
"Look, I only said that because I thought no one was listening!" Spencer exclaimed nervously.  
  
"Well watch it, because I hear everything!" Elfaine said angrily, ears twitching.  
  
"Alright, alright, I'm sorry." Spencer said, expecting the younger boy to let him down. When he didn't, Spencer relented. "Um, I don't suppose you could let me down?"  
  
"What? Oh yeah, sure." Elfaine said, walking away from Spencer somewhat and sitting down in the low grass.  
  
"What's wrong?" Spencer asked. He knew Elfaine never acted like this without reason.  
  
"What's your thing with Ari?" Elfaine shot back, glaring at the shadowy boy.  
  
"What? No, there's no thing. Nothing at all." Spencer said nervously, wondering how Elfaine could have noticed. He had thought that he was being rather secretive about it.  
  
"Then there's nothing wrong." Elfaine replied, and returned to brooding.  
  
"Do-do you have a thing-" Spencer began.  
  
"No." Elfaine snapped. "She's older than me, remember?" He sounded very sarcastic.  
  
"You know, I've been thinking about that. How come you're so much younger than the rest of us? When we met you and Martin were practically the same age."  
  
"Yeah, well... Look; don't tell Aurelia, I don't think she'd really understand, but... I'm an elf. We age about half as fast as humans do." Elfaine explained sadly.  
  
"So that makes you," Spencer did a quick calculation in his head, then his eyes went wide. "Twenty-four?!"  
  
Elfaine nodded. "Close. Twenty-five. I was eleven when Aurelia was born." He sighed. "I've got the intelligence unclouded by hormones of a twenty-five-year-old, and once I hit thirty, I'll be your age." He sighed again. "Completely riddled with hormones and angst, probably just like you."  
  
Spencer snorted. "But your intelligence-"  
  
"Won't make a difference." Elfaine finished for him. "Just because you're smart doesn't make you not go crazy for a girl. You, of all people, should know that." Elfaine gave him a hard stare that make Spencer highly uncomfortable.  
  
"Don't think you're so high and mighty just because you go to the black mage's guild and study all day and night. You're no better than any other man when it comes to emotions, especially at hiding them. I know that whenever she shows affection towards anyone but you, you choke and cough and try to get her attention. Listen, that's not the way to do it. You've got to master her attention, and believe me, with your dear brother around, that isn't easy." Elfaine took a deep breath. "You want her to notice you? Ask her to the beach sometime. Or to a festival. Or something. Spencer, you're sickening when you're lovelorn." The elf smiled sympathetically.  
  
Spencer mumbled something incoherently and fidgeted with the crystal in his pocket. It became warmer than usual, then hot. He wrenched it out of his pocket, where it sat in his hand, glowing brightly. He noted that Elfaine had removed an identical one from his pocket and was putting it on.  
  
"Something's wrong." Elfaine said succinctly, watching the northern sky fill with smoke.  
  
"You got that right." Spencer replied, rising to his feet.  
  
The bridge was a chaotic, fiery mass of wood and metal. The four had made their way to the edge of the forest to see the disaster and help if needed. Martin and Aurelia hung close together in the brush, while Elfaine was out on a limb, and Spencer had climbed halfway up the same tree, and sat on a low branch.  
  
There, at the mouth of the flames, stood Sir Garland, raising his sword and a torch menacingly with a crazed look in his eyes. He advanced on the guards and cleaved them with one swing of his huge sword, splattering the ground with blood and flesh. Garland's eyes were red with rage as he stormed off into the forest, heading towards Cornelia.  
  
Elfaine frowned darkly and swung down from the tree, landing just beyond Martin and Aurelia. Martin had hid Aurelia's face from the deaths of the guards, but had watched, transfixed, as Garland slew those four men. He and Aurelia looked up as Elfaine strode through the bushes and out to where the men lay.  
  
"What does he think he's doing?!" Aurelia whispered anxiously, looking this way and that for the knight's return.  
  
Martin stood carefully, obviously not wanting to be out in the open. "Elfaine, get back here!" He whispered loudly. "He could come back!"  
  
"Garland wouldn't bother. Once one place is done, he won't bother coming back. Very final, that guy." Elfaine said distantly, looking around like a fisherman casting a net. He took in everything, trying to discern any specks of information.  
  
"What about the bridge?" Aurelia said, standing up next to Martin. From behind, Spencer scowled.  
  
"Destroyed." Elfaine said simply, crouching down and examining a bit of dirt closer.  
  
Spencer dropped down from the tree and swaggered onto the scene, walking right past Aurelia. "Probably wanted to cut off communications and supply lines. He'll burn the docks next." The novice black mage walked onto the scene and examined the patch of ground Elfaine was staring at, commenting under his breath about what was there.  
  
Their crystals flared again and there was an earth-shattering rumble. They looked towards the southwest, but could only see the lights of the city.  
  
"There's no way he could get there that fast. He's probably just killing people in the city now." Spencer said matter-of-factly.  
  
"What? But someone has to stop him!" Aurelia cried.  
  
Martin put his arm around her, while Spencer's yellow eye twitched. "Sir Garland is more powerful than the King's entire army." He shook his head. "There's no way we could stop him."  
  
Aurelia looked shocked. She looked to the other two, who merely shrugged.  
  
"Well someone's going to have to stop him from killing us. I'd rather die defending Cornelia than die by his hand!" And she stomped off in the direction of the city before any of the others could do anything.  
  
Martin fingered the unsharpened sword that rested in its sheath. "Hey, Martin!" Elfaine called, getting his attention. "Catch!" And he tossed a long slender object at him.  
  
He caught it easily, and found it was a guard's sword. "What? But I can't-"  
  
"Can't what? Go defend her from getting hurt or worse? Go on ahead. Spencer and I'll catch up." Elfaine said, patting the shadowy figure's shoulder.  
  
He didn't need to be told twice. Martin took off at top speed to the city, dropping his unsharpened blade as he went.  
  
"Why did you do that?" Spencer asked incredulously. He was still crouched down, fingering the ash from the knight's footprints.  
  
"Because he and Aurelia can buy us time. If I'm right, Garland will go right for the White Mages' conclave, slaughtering all of them. If Aurelia and Martin can distract him, we can get behind and you can cast that little spell you've been learning."  
  
"I told you already, I haven't been able to do it yet, just a little static." Spencer said nervously, standing and wiping the ash off his hands. "Besides, even if I could, what would that accomplish?"  
  
"All we need is to be able to drive him away while Cornelia recoups. Once we prevent him from hitting the docks and the White Mages' guild, he'll flee and we'll have time to gather the military power we'll need." Elfaine explained, taking another sword from the deceased and scorched guard.  
  
"I don't like how much this depends on me." Spencer said, following the elf into the forest.  
  
"Believe me, Spence, I don't like it much, either."  
  
Sir Garland was nearly twice Martin's height. Aurelia was frustrated. Not only could she not get the man's attention, but there wasn't anything resembling a weapon in sight. She spotted several stones and chucked one at his head. It ricocheted off his helmet and broke a shop window. But, at least it got his attention. She grabbed a few more and started hitting his helm. He turned towards her and laughed deeply.  
  
"You are a waste of my blade, dearie." He said in a deep voice that shook the air between them. She managed to hit somewhere inside his helmet.  
  
"Why are you doing this!?" She yelled, trying desperately to ignore the dead bodies in the street.  
  
"Hate me, dear. I do so love the taste of *hate!*" He swung his sword to her left, intending to cleave her in half as he had the guards. She ducked, but knew it wouldn't be low enough. She was going to--  
  
CLANG! The sound of steel on steel rang through the city. Garland's giant sword was stopped by Martin and his guard's sword. Tendrils of flame licked Martin's blade before Garland drew back again. There was a chink in his sword where Garland's half-hearted attempt to slay Aurelia had struck.  
  
"So, a hero comes to stop me?" Garland chuckled again and swung at the two of them faster than--  
  
"Just do it, Spence! I know you can!" Elfaine egged the human on, jumping up and down excitedly. "Ooh, I'm surprised that didn't break the blade!"  
  
"Shut up, I'm trying to concentrate!" Spencer snapped.  
  
"Oh no, he's swinging for Aurelia again!" Elfaine cried in a very frightened voice.  
  
"What?" Spencer looked up.  
  
The clouds descended and everyone's hair stood on end.  
  
And then it happened.  
  
A lightning bolt crackled through Garland's armor, popping a few buckles and disorienting him somewhat. He shook his head and ran, clambering over the city wall and off into the distance. With each step he took the ground shook, and his sword knocked over several buildings and some others were set fire.  
  
Elfaine let out a whoop and slapped the balcony. "Wow! Just look at him go! That was amazing, Spencer! The way you--" The elf looked to where Spencer had been standing just moments ago. He was now crumpled on the ground, his hat barely shading his face. Elfaine knelt and caught glimpses of a scar along the left side of his jaw. He slapped the shaded face lightly, ignoring the slight wetness of sweat. When he did not wake, Elfaine checked his pocket for the crystal he now knew Spencer carried. The glow was faint, much fainter than his own. Elfaine frowned and attempted to pick up the larger body.  
  
Aurelia instantly fainted into Martin's arms, his sword clattered to the ground. The assorted bystanders wandered out from behind buildings, looking out from alleyways and behind dustbins.  
  
"Outta the way! One side, keep it movin'!" called a familiar voice, making his way through the gathering crowd. Elfaine appeared, shouldering the limp Spencer. Martin had fallen to one knee and laid Aurelia against one knee, then accepted his half-brother's frail form on the other. Elfaine was panting, trying to catch his breath.  
  
"I suppose they're all right. Let's see if we can get them to the white mages' guild." Martin managed, dumbstruck.  
  
"Yeah, Aurelia's just fainted. Him, though, I don't know..." Elfaine said between breaths.  
  
"Why? What do you mean?" Martin looked up at the younger boy.  
  
"Well, when he summoned that bolt I was really rooting for him, but he--"  
  
"He what?" Martin interjected.  
  
"The lightning bolt that went through Garland. He-" Elfaine tried to continue, but Martin overruled him.  
  
"You made him do magic? You know he's not trained!" Martin roared, looking at Elfaine and then at his younger half-brother.  
  
"I know, but he's been studying really hard, and I just thought--" Elfaine said, now mildly nervous as his eyes darted from one side of the crowd to the other.  
  
Martin shifted his two unconscious friends off of his legs and onto the ground, drawing himself up to his towering six feet three inches. "You thought magic would solve all of your problems? Well you were wrong. He's near death now, I'm sure of it. Last time he did magic he nearly died! Do you have any idea the kind of energy that takes out of a person? Do you? You don't, you little thief! My brother might die now! Do you want his blood on your hands?"  
  
"Look, he never said anything about it draining his energy--" Elfaine started, backing away. The ellipse around the four youths grew larger as well.  
  
"I know you, Elf-boy. I've got your number. You're already a cheat and a swindler, and you're only ten. Now get out of my eyes or I'll make yours glow red with blood."  
  
Aurelia woke the next morning in one of the hospital beds the white mage's had for long-term patients. She looked around her and spotted one of her teachers sitting beside Spencer. A curtain obscured his face, but she spotted several scars on his pale hand lying on the white sheets.  
  
She set the covers gently aside and swung her feet around, knocking against an object on the floor. Aurelia looked down and had to blink. Lying on a sleeping mat was Martin, snoring quietly. Carefully stepping over him, Aurelia made her way to Spencer's bedside. Her teacher looked up and motioned for her to be quiet.  
  
Aurelia giggled, realizing that this was most definitely not one of her teachers. It was possibly one of the more amusing sights she had ever seen, Elfaine wearing a white mage's robe and carrying one of their rosaries. Spencer's large hat was draped just over his eyes, completely shading his face yet again. Aurelia made a move to lift it slightly, but Elfaine gestured for her to desist.  
  
She quietly drew up a chair and waited for the two half-brothers to awaken, not asking for an explanation. At least, not just yet. Aurelia felt that she had just enough of the truth to be happy. At least for now.  
  
Her crystal glowed underneath her nightshirt, pulsing in unison with both her heart and the other three crystals, beating a rhythm that was not fast enough. At least, not yet. 


End file.
